


just one more chapter (our book won't close)

by voodoochild



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Fantasy Booking, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, I just want this to happen, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Not Kayfabe Compliant, Parallels, Speculation, WrestleMania, kayfabe is weird with this one guys just roll with it, wwe's writing sucks so let's fix it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 20:11:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15420666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoochild/pseuds/voodoochild
Summary: It's Wrestlemania, and Kevin Owens is facing down the tag team champions without a partner. Or is he? [Fantasy-booking Wrestlemania 35 for fun and not profit.]





	just one more chapter (our book won't close)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Dessa's "Matches to Paper Dolls". Written for **fic-promptly** , for the following prompts - "WWE, author's choice, first title win" and "Any, My hero". 
> 
> Needless to say, I have no connection to WWE, I'm just fantasy-booking here.

Ambrose and Rollins think this is going to be easy.

They're in full-on smug mode, high off beating up Kevin week after week, costing him his opportunity at Strowman and the Universal Championship. They think they've eliminated all possible partners for Kevin, putting Roode on the shelf, focusing Jinder and Lashley on each other, turning Corbin against Kevin. They're in the ring in their stupid Shield throwback shirts, riding the nostalgia high, and rubbing the titles in Kevin's face.

There's a timer on the Titantron, 2:00 for Kevin to either find a partner or forfeit. Ambrose is on the mic, taunting Kevin, saying he can run to Daddy Hunter if he's fast, no one's going to save him, and Kevin laughs.

"Deano, Deano, Deano, you and Seth, out of everyone in this building, know there's _always_ a Plan B."

Red-and-black letters, white flashing graphics on the Titantron, and a very, very welcome theme song playing, New York comes unglued when Sami Zayn walks out onto the Wrestlemania stage. They made up shirts for the occasion ("fight Owens/Zayn fight" on the front, "no pasarán" on the back), and while Ambrose is certainly shocked, Rollins looks like he just saw a ghost.

He fucking well should, because it's been almost ten years since this iteration of them have teamed up. 

Sure, they had a good alliance after Hell in a Cell, but all the Shane and AJ bullshit kept them distracted. They never really capitalized on their tag team skills and history, and the Kevin Owens and Sami Zayn walking the aisle at MetLife Stadium aren't smiling or joking anymore. It's New York, it's always been New York, because they went to war with each other three times in New York, and now they're ready to go to war with Rollins and Ambrose.

Bell to bell, it's a match that's going to be in highlight reels for years to come. It's full of teases and callbacks, references to WWE feuds and their Ring of Honor work, and some of the best tag team wrestling in years. WWE crowds haven't seen quite this combination: Seth Rollins in his Crossfit Jesus prime, Dean Ambrose with his edge back, Kevin Owens in full Kill-Steen-Kill mode, and Sami Zayn healed up, rested, and ready to show off his arsenal. "Hot" doesn't even begin to describe the tags, and the crowd can't decide who they want to cheer for, because for every "LET'S GO AMBROSE!" there's a "LET'S GO ZAYN!". For every "FIGHT OWENS FIGHT!" there's an equally loud "BURN IT DOWN!"

Rollins hits the curbstomp at the 22-minute mark, and Sami does the impossible - kicks out decisively. Then it's Ambrose taking a pop-up powerbomb to the apron and kicking out back in the ring. Rollins and Ambrose try buckle bombs and suicide dives, and Kevin and Sami retaliate with sychronized kicks and outside moonsaults. They're all getting frustrated and irate, and someone busts out a steel chair. 

Kevin doesn't remember moving, but Seth has the chair in his hands and is winding up to crack it right across Sami's head. He shoves Sami out of the way and takes the chair shot, hits the canvas almost as hard. His head feels like it's exploding every time his blood pulses, and dimly, he hears Sami scream his name. Kevin opens his eyes to watch Sami Helluva Kick the chair into Seth, then throw Dean over the ropes and to the outside.

"Kev, are you alright, talk to me-" Sami's saying, and Kevin groans, gets to his knees and leans against Sami. "What were you thinking?"

"You just came back, I'm not letting you take a chair shot."

Sami laughs helplessly into Kevin's shoulder. "Not unless it's you dishing it out, huh?"

"Forever and ever, man," Kevin says, leaning his head against Sami's and wincing. "Fuck, Rollins is way too chair-happy. I feel like I should be spitting teeth."

"You are my actual hero," Sami responds, looking over his shoulder to where Rollins and Ambrose are regrouping. "We need to put them away. Assembly Line?"

Kevin nearly chokes. "Vince will kill us."

"You care what he thinks if it gets the crowd going insane? So we break the piledriver and brainbuster rules without asking. We're giving him the best match of the night, potentially of the year, and we can afford the fine. You in?"

"Motherfucking yes. Yes. Let's do it."

Ambrose is in the ring first, and Sami's on his feet to meet him. They go back and forth with blows, kicks, and even a couple headbutts. Sami's managed to maneuver him to the turnbuckle, and they battle on top of it. Kevin gets up and together, he and Sami toss Ambrose halfway across the ring into Rollins, and while Rollins goes down dazed, Ambrose rolls out of the ring. The crowd smells blood, knows something big is coming, and Kevin locks eyes with Sami as they get into a familiar position.

Rollins has stumbled to his feet, and there's that ghost-stricken look again right before Kevin boots him in the stomach and hooks his arms. Flips him up for the package piledriver, and he distinctly hears a very small "oh shit" from Seth before he drops. The crowd's stunned, half of them screaming like crazy and half gasping in shock. The _olé_ chants start as Kevin rolls Rollins through, perfectly chained into Sami cinching in the headlock. Lifts Rollins up for the brainbuster, and it's picture-perfect, that fluid little twist as Sami drops him and then goes for the pin.

One.

Two.

_Three._

It's Wrestlemania. There's pyro. There's confetti. There is Kevin's music playing. There's around 80,000 people cheering.

Kevin doesn't care, he's dropped to his knees next to Sami and just clings to him. He's saying the stupidest, most ridiculous things ("don't you ever fucking leave me again" and "you deserve this but I don't" and "what the hell did we just do?") and Sami's trying to make sense ("I won't, I promise" and "shut up shut the fuck up you deserve everything" and "we won we won we're the fucking tag team champions") and the ref is trying to hand them two heavy red and gold belts.

He only realizes he's crying when Sami crushes both titles between them and breathes "don't cry don't cry oh Kev you asshole I love you". They breathe in tandem, one or two minutes in reality, but it feels like a lifetime. Somehow, they get to their feet and hold the titles up for the crowd.

Then they see Seth and Dean, fucking beaming at them, a microphone in Seth's hand.

"You deserve it," he says, and the crowd echoes the chant. "I don't know if everyone knows, but it's been ten years since these two have been world tag team champions." 

A few thousand ROHbots are singing _olé olé olé olé olé_ , and Dean joins in for a while before quieting them. "And we got another two milestones tonight. First, I want you guys to cheer the roof off this place for Sami Zayn. Because this is the first time he's held gold in four years and two months, and brother, that is too damn long."

Kevin howls along with the crowd as Sami closes his eyes and kisses the title. Holds it up again for the crowd, and there's an almost physical wall of sound for two minutes straight. 

"Way too damn long," Seth agrees, and after a moment, holds his hand out to Kevin. "Let me be the first, from one champion to another, to welcome Kevin Owens to a very exclusive club - how about it, Grand Slam Champ?"

It almost doesn't register. Him? He's what? Sami's shaking him, bouncing up and down, and Dean's ticking off the championships on his fingers ("Universal, Intercontinental, US, and now Tag") and Kevin ducks his head in chagrin. Sami elbows him, and he remembers to shake Seth's hand.

"Hell of a fight," Seth says, just for them, and Dean claps Kevin on the back, nodding. "You wanna continue pissing Vince off and go full-on Curtain Call with this shit?"

"We're already getting the goddamnit-you-assholes-I-said-no-piledrivers-or-brainbusters lecture," Sami says, shifting his title onto his shoulder and holding out a hand to Dean. "What's he gonna do, risk us taking these things for a spin in the Tokyo Dome?"

Dean shakes, then hugs Sami. All four of them go in for it, and while the ref is trying to tell them to wrap it up, Seth laughs his little asshole heel laugh. "I would pay so much money for you two to pull a Jericho and put Kenny and Kota on notice."

"Oh, stop," Kevin teases, smirking. "We just became tag champs. We're staying here for a good long time."


End file.
